Inheritance of the Mind
by OniAkamari
Summary: “Yes, Murtagh. As his eldest brother, you two share a connection magic cannot duplicate. Use this bond to break his will. With Eragon at our side, the resistance will fall and a new age of Riders will reign in Alagaesia.” NC-17. MurEra.
1. Orders from Evil

**Author's Note: **After reading _Eragon_, _Eldest_, and _Brisinger_ straight through, is it possible that I could not write a fic from it? Of course not. So I bring to you the stuff that wanders into my thoughts as I read.

**Disclaimer:** No I do not own any part of the Inheritance Series. If I did there would not be nearly a three year wait from book to bloody book.

**Warning:** Spoilers for everything before _Brisinger._ Slight spoiler-ish hints from _Brisinger_, but no major details.

* * *

_It had not been enough…_

_The Battle of the Burning Plains had ended in failure. The Varden's only hope had been stolen. The wards around Eragon and Saphira had failed. Arya was unable to protect them. Murtagh and Thorn overpowered them and then…_

_Murtagh and Thorn had crushed them; by uttering the few words that crushed Eragon's spirit._

"Besides, Zar'roc should have gone to Morzan's eldest son, not his youngest."

_By trickery and magic that should have been out of the newer Rider's grasp, Murtagh bound Eragon and Saphira in Eragon's agony, and transported them to Ura'bean with a great blue flash._

_Arya was in despair that her charges were taken. Her friends were taken._

_The Varden wept with the loss of their Rider. Their hope. Their chance. All of it was gone. And they knew they would be crushed without fail._

_They were alone..._

_--_

Black hair fell in front of his eyes as Murtagh knelt before Galbatorix, his eyes focused on a stone just near his foot. He knew Eragon was only alive because of Saphira and he feared what the immortal king would do next.

"Murtagh," the king said quietly, his voice low and deadly. "You have done well in bringing Eragon to me. For that I am grateful." It was so easy to tell the man lied through his teeth. "You are like a son to me, Murtagh. We have had our troubling spots as all families do, but together we are great. I know it must be hard to see your own brother in such a position, is it not?"

"It is…" he replied quietly not yet trusting himself to look up. The king read his face so easily and these days Murtagh did not trust himself enough to hold the darkest secrets of his mind and heart safe.

_Murtagh…_ the voice in his head was childlike despite the force and power behind it. Its owner, the red dragon behind him, was the youngest of a dying race and Murtagh's life and spirit partner, Thorn. _Be brave, no matter the cost, I will keep your secrets safe from him. He may own our souls and hearts, but he will never own our spirits._

_I know, Thorn..._

Galbatorix watched the two, not prying on their thoughts as he attempted to create a false sanctuary for his two slaves. "I believe, if my spellcasters and I am not able to persuade Eragon and Saphira, it is you and Thorn who can."

"Us, your highness?"

"Yes, Murtagh. As his eldest brother, you two share a connection magic cannot duplicate. Use this bond to break his will. With Eragon at our side, the resistance will fall and a new age of Riders will reign in Alagaesia." Murtagh marveled how the twisted king could make such a cruel and dirty act seem so perfect and good. With a sad inner laugh he realized that was the same madness that had fooled him as a child.

_Be strong, little one,_ Thorn said softly, his breath ruffling Murtagh's hair in a sense of comfort.

Murtagh looked up to stare into the cold eyes of his oath holder. "I will try my best, your majesty."

"Try very hard, Murtagh. You know how I despise failure…" Galbatorix hissed.

"I know…" He knew very well. Galbatorix's wrath was not foreign to him or Thorn. They knew any failure on their part would invoke the king's fearsome wrath. "What is it you want us to do exactly?"

A pleased smirk spread across the mad king's face. The black dragon, Shurikan, looked down at the young dragon and Rider before his Master. Years of sharing a mind with his false Rider had twisted the dragon's mind. Very little of him was not as demented as the mind that shared his own. _Hatchlings, it is your duty to break into the human-elf's mind. Do whatever you must to convince him of our righteousness, hurt him if you need to. Red-scales, force your will upon the Blue-one if you must so your Rider may get to the human-elf,_ the ancient voice echoed in both Murtagh's and Thorn's minds.

"As you wish, Shurikan."

_Yes, Master Shurikan._

Galbatorix's smirk grew wider. "Very good. Go now, see what you can accomplish but under no means harm him physically, the war you fight now is a mental one," he advised before waving his hand at the two to send them away.

As one, Murtagh and Thorn stood to their full heights and bowed their heads to their masters before turning to leave.

Murtagh kept his hand on Thorn's foreleg as they moved through the castle fortress. They passed dozens of halls they knew like the back of their own hand or scales as in Thorn's case. Passing hundreds of paintings, from people of old to horrific and awe inspiring war scenes, statues of dragons of all shapes with an array of jewels embedded within, and several dozen weapons that no longer saw the bloodshed of battle, they continued onward without pausing. One blue sword that always caught Murtagh's eyes as he passed seemed to blend in with the shadows today as he focused on the task at hand.

They stopped before a large door leading into the dark dungeons below and with a short mental assurance on Thorn's part Murtagh led them down into the dark.


	2. Approaching Doom

**Author's Note: **I'm glad some people have taken an interest in this series Comments are loved and dont worry things will pick up next chapter, just sorta getting the mood set

**Disclaimer:** No I do not own any part of the Inheritance Series. If I did there wouldn't be nearly a three year wait from book to bloody book.

**Warning:** Spoiler's for everything before _Brisinger._ Slight spoiler-ish hints from _Brisinger_, but no major details.

* * *

Alone…He and Saphira were alone…

Eragon let his head rest against the stone wall behind him. Even with his heightened hearing he could only hear the breathing of Saphira and himself. Even the rats of the dungeon had abandoned them.

He clenched his fists weakly as the shackles on his wrists rubbed him the wrong way. Upon capture, he and Saphira had been moved to the dungeons with no control over their own limbs. He had been chained to his cell, after his escape from Gil'ead Galbatorix felt no reason to risk another escape. His ankles were bound to the chains embedded in the floor and his wrists to the chains in the wall. The binds gave him limited movement though he had not bothered to test them after the first day.

Eragon had been tortured…his back was scarred with lash marks that the healers of the fortress let scar and burn and his limits had been pushed far beyond that of what he should have been able to handle. And Saphira…he couldn't even bare to remember what those monstrosities did to his precious Saphira.

Galbatorix had her chained and imprisoned in the cell beside Eragon's. On her neck rested a heavy leather collar that was chained to the floor with magic she could not break. On each of her legs were another smaller version of the collar that kept her grounded and movement impossible. And with that done he had her tortured as he had Eragon, forcing the one to watch the other's pain while they had no control over anything at all.

He closed his eyes, hopelessly wishing it all away, praying to any god that would listen to help them. "Arya…" he whispered helplessly, awaiting the elf woman to save him as he had her.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look over at the wounded dragon. Though her cuts and scars had been healed, the blow to her dignity as a dragon was still painful. _Saphira…_

_Yes little one?_ Saphira asked softly, her voice week from the drugs that laced her food to keep her ill.

_I'm sorry…I let you down…_ he murmured through their weak connection. Eragon was forced to guard his mind constantly, leaving it open only enough for Saphira to speak with him.

_Eragon…do not blame your self for what those egg-breakers have done. We will get out of her, little one. All hope is not yet lost…_

_Then why do I feel as though it is? The Varden…the elves…the dwarves…the dragons…Alagaesia…we let them all down… And it's my fault. When Murtagh said...that we were brothers…I froze…And I let them attack us…_Eragon's mental voice shook as he tried to pull himself together, only to fail.

Saphira reached her neck out before letting her snout jut as far between the bars as it could. Eragon stroked her scales lovingly as she spoke again, _Do not dwell on it, little one. You are not Selena, nor are you that egg-breaker Morzan. You are Eragon Shadeslayer. Morzan's blood is not yours. Did Garrow not raise you? Or Brom? Or Oromis?_

_But-_

_No buts, Eragon,_ she said sternly as she nuzzled his hand like a cat.

He sighed and cast his eyes downward, pulling his hand back to his lap as he did so. With a mental sigh and soft snort of smoke, Saphira pulled her neck back to curl up. As she closed her eyes she heard the soft thought of, _Thank you…_ and she knew Eragon could feel her small sense of peace at that thought.

Eragon pulled his knees closer to his chest as he looked downward. It had been four days since the Battle of the Burning Plains. Four days of hell in the pits of Ura'bean. He had been drugged enough that he could not use the ancient language no matter how hard he tried, but mental speech was still available to him. Saphira was drugged enough to kill a herd of cattle but it did little more than weaken her to the strength of a 'hatchling yet to learn of the skies' as she herself put it.

And if not for those who came to torture them or feed them, Eragon and Saphira were utterly alone.

If just for the sake of keeping his voice alive, Eragon wished his traitorous brother would see him. He had yet to see Murtagh except in passing in the halls while Eragon was dragged like a slave, or when he stood behind Galbatorix, a lone shadow meant to fulfill the role of the long dead Forsworn.

He sighed, about ready to give up hope of a visitor or savior when a distant sound caught his attention. He picked his head up, pointed ears alert. There was the soft sound of boots on stone…followed by the rap of claws and scales descending the stairs.

The same thought flashed through both Eragon's and Saphira's minds before their shields went up, blocking even each other: _Murtagh and Thorn._


	3. Ties that Bind

**Author's Note: **I seem to be beating about the bush with giving you your slash huh? Oh well its worth it and I swear it's more than just hinting next chapter. I know this because it's already written. -evil laugh-

**Disclaimer:** No I do not own any part of the Inheritance Series. If I did there wouldn't be nearly a three year wait from book to bloody book.

**Warning:** Spoiler's for everything before _Brisinger._ Slight spoiler-ish hints from _Brisinger_, but no major details.

* * *

The raven rider descended down the stone stairs, his hand on the foreleg of Thorn as he proceeded. There was a slight pause in his steps as he pulled his act together; he refused to appear weak or indecisive in front of Eragon.

He let his eyes adjust to the dim light of the dungeon before he proceeded down the hall towards the occupied cells at the end. Murtagh stopped in front of Eragon's cell and looked down at his brother, with a wry smile he held his arms out, "Tell me brother, did you think I would not come to visit you?"

"Traitor," Eragon hissed, his hands clenching at the chains beside him.

"I'm sorry you think like that brother, but I'm here to talk with you. It has been awhile since our last civil talk."

"I do not talk to dogs," he snapped. Weak he may be, but Eragon would not roll over and play dead in front of his captors.

Murtagh tsk'd and shook his head before seating himself against the wall directly opposite from Eragon. Dark eyes met bright ones as he watched him silently. Beside them, Thorn and Saphira were sharing short growls of their tongue, the blue dragon refusing to open her mind to the hatchling.

Murtagh felt the same challenge with Eragon's mind. Still watching his brother he told Thorn, _Convince Saphira I merely wish to talk in private to Eragon. We don't mean them harm and that were here only to talk. Eragon will not believe me but Saphira he will._

_Of course, Murtagh._

He smiled softly to his partner, his eyes and Eragon's drifting from each other to watch the dragons. Their roars and growls became more heated for a time until Saphira looked Thorn and Murtagh over, giant eyes questioning before she turned her head to Eragon.

Murtagh felt Eragon's barriers falter but he did not attack, he knew Thorn had managed to convince Saphira at least partially. But in a short moment Eragon's shields returned and angry bright eyes were soon glaring into Murtagh.

"Am I supposed to believe you are not here to hurt us?"

"You should believe it because it is true, brother."

"Do not call me brother!" Eragon growled. "I refuse to believe I'm the son of such evils."

Murtagh forced a laugh, "If it were that easy to change your blood, I would have done it a long time ago. But really Eragon, I just want to talk without prying ears…Galbatorix may be listening and there are matters I wish to discuss alone."

Eragon watched him quietly, "If it's true, then speak it in the ancient language."

"Unlike you I'm not entirely fluent in the language of the elves, Eragon."

He sighed, "Then repeat after me and I'll give you the words that mean 'I, Murtagh Dragon Rider, mean no harm to Eragon Shadeslayer. I wish to talk of private matters and nothing else.' It is the only way I'll open my mind to you."

Murtagh agreed and repeated each phrase Eragon gave him with no difficulty. Satisfied to an extent the younger teen reluctantly opened his mind to allow speech between him and Murtagh nothing more.

Beside them the dragons had grown quiet though each rider could tell they spoke within their minds as well.

Murtagh, without hesitating, uttered the phrase of the ancient language Galbatorix had burned into his mind. It was a unique spell of Galbatorix's creation that froze the state of minds of those it was intended for in a single instant. Any open mind could not be closed unless the caster ended the spell.

Eragon's eyes widened at the first few words once he realized his brother intended to use magic. Murtagh noticed his furious struggle as he tried to slam his barriers down to no avail.

"What have you done?" he cried, a roar of fury from Saphira punctuated his scream.

_I merely wished to prevent you from blocking me from your mind. And Thorn from Saphira's. I wish I did not have to trick you but it was the only way to be sure._

"What do you need to talk about so badly? Release my mind Murtagh! Is it not enough you have put me in chains and cells but now you must arrest my mind as well?" he asked; his anger only clouded by his own self pity for his situation.

_Please Eragon, speak within our thoughts. I told you what we will be speaking off is meant for only our ears and thoughts._

Eragon growled lowly before crossing his arms and glaring. _Fine. But don't expect thrilling conversation on my part_ brother.

He chuckled softly._ That will not be much of a problem._ Besides…his duty was not to talk with Eragon, but to torture him. He would not harm Eragon, for his oath prevented it, but what he had planned would only torture his thoughts.

It was clear, that while Murtagh still considered Eragon more of a friend than an enemy, Eragon did not. What was more torturing than forcing Eragon to see differently?

Murtagh vowed with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes, _Brother, I will make you understand_ everything_ about me…_


	4. Mind Control

**Author's Note: **I know what you are all thinking: 'About time!' Well pooey on all of you. I got it and its done but fear not the story shall go on! And I do apologize for that week span of nothing. But seriosuly, this is the fastest I've ever updated a story so many times.

**Disclaimer:** No I do not own any part of the Inheritance Series. If I did there wouldn't be nearly a three year wait from book to bloody book.

**Warning:** Spoiler's for everything before _Brisinger._ Slight spoiler-ish hints from _Brisinger_, but no major details. Non-consetual sex and mind raping...you'll see

* * *

Eragon flinched at the darkness in Murtagh's voice. He cursed his stupidity for allowing Murtagh into his thoughts. But then again…what was the worse he could do? Eragon's mind was opened only enough to allow speech and images through, nothing else.

Of course…he could have more secrets of Eragon's past he would be more than happy to share. Or he could tell him all about Morzan. Or he could destroy Eragon's image of his mother Selene. Or…

Eragon inwardly groaned. How foolish was he to think Murtagh could have meant his words? It was only his isolation and desire for human contact that let him believe, made him want to believe, Murtagh's innocence.

It was only now he realized Murtagh was anything but innocent. And now…he was trapped…

Murtagh looked him over quietly, _When did you loose your scar?_

_When I was with the elves._

_Is that all? Nothing special? Just Elven magic that us mortals do not comprehend? Are you even human any more, brother?_

_Yes._

_So talkative I see._

_You tricked me._

_You fell for it._

Eragon grit his teeth. He would take the annoying banter if this was the worst of Murtagh's wrath, but he would not share any secrets of the elves. Oromis…Glaedr… Eragon would not betray them no matter what it cost him.

_Have you ever thought of our situation, brother?_

_Situation? Which one?_ Eragon growled. _Enemies, brothers, ex-friends, Riders, do be specific._

_I mean as brothers of course. I have only known for a few weeks, but it is all I have thought about._

_And why is that? Annoyed you have to fight the only member of your family left? Roran will never consider you anything more than filth. He is my _only_ brother._

Eragon could see the way his unexpected response had hit Murtagh. The other male seemed almost…hurt by his words. He shook his head and pushed that thought away. No, this Murtagh was not his friend; he could not be hurt by anything but the edge of a sword.

_I'm sorry you feel that way._

_Of course you are._

_You do not think I care do you?_

_You killed Hrothgar and you imprisoned me and Saphira. Let me only wonder why I do not believe you care._

_Must you have such a sharp tongue?_

_Yes. Yes I must. Look at me Murtagh; look at what you have reduced me too. Look at Saphira. No dragon should ever suffer what she has._

He felt those dark eyes look him over and took in everything; the chains that bound him, the scars that marred his skin, the bruises, the filth and the bars that blocked him from freedom. The eyes soon found their way back to Eragon's face where they locked with his angry and bright eyes

_I see what has become of you. Minus the chains and turn the bars into a castle wall, you are reliving my childhood._

_Do not pull that. Abused or not no parent would do this to their own son._

_Morzan would. Our father would. His blood courses through our veins, Eragon. Just because you deny it, it does not change._

Eragon clenched his fists and glared at Murtagh. "Stop playing games... We both know you are only here to torture me more. Enough with this talk, get over with it and leave me be."

_I said to speak only in thought. Do not think I have forgotten why I am here. I will show you the one piece of my soul that even Galbatorix knows naught of._

…Eragon had to admit he was intrigued. To know something of Murtagh that Galbatorix knew nothing of…it was an intriguing proposition. But…Murtagh had yet torture him…so perhaps knowing wouldn't be as good as he was hoping.

_Prepare yourself, brother._

_Prepare for wh-?_

Before Eragon could respond there was an image being projected into his mind: Murtagh was in the cell with Eragon, kneeling beside the younger male, a smirk of amusement and desire on his human face, and a look of confusion and apprehension and…something else Eragon could not place was seen on his elfish face.

_Let me show you my thoughts, my feelings, my hidden secrets, brother. Let me show you the sinner I have become while you were away._ As Murtagh projected his thoughts the image of the other boy seemed to speak as well.

Murtagh murmured something across from him and Eragon soon found it hard to keep his eyes open, they soon fell shut so that all he could see were the images Murtagh created for him. His ears became steadily deaf to the world around him and soon all he could hear was what Murtagh wanted him to hear.

The blonde Rider panicked but found with everything Murtagh forced on him, his own emotions seemed to fade into the background.

_Let us begin brother._

Eragon was forced to watch as Murtagh ran his hand up his brother's side so it rested on his hip before he captured Eragon's lips in a deep kiss.

Eragon wished to struggle, for the mage to disappear of for him to have some semblance of control over it, but to no avail. Murtagh held all the pieces in this game of his.

Murtagh deepened the kiss and the illusion Eragon slowly parted his lips allowing Murtagh to thrust his tongue in and ravish the blonde's mouth. Sensations of what Murtagh did to the false Eragon came to the real one, he could nearly feel and taste the other man on his lips.

Murtagh pulled back from the kiss as Eragon spoke, _Stop this!_ Well...that was the effect Eragon wished to have. Murtagh, pulling all the strings, somehow twisted Eragon's words before he spoke them so that the furious yell became a half-hearted moan edged with lust.

Murtagh smirked and kissed at him before he slid his hand under Eragon's torn, his hands ghosting over the scarred skin of his brother. False Eragon moaned at the touch as Murtagh pinched softly at his nipples.

_I have wanted to do this to you for so long; since we first sparred, really. And when I learned we were blood, I thought these feelings would leave. I was wrong. _His voice was heavy with lust and need before he leaned in to kiss him again.

Eragon found his image moaning into the kiss as Murtagh slid his hand down his chest again, this time resting it over his groin. _I have dreamt of touching you…kissing you…_fucking_ you._

Eragon gasped and squirmed at the knowledge, though false Eragon's movements in response only egged Murtagh on.

Murtagh nipped at his neck before he rubbed his hand over Eragon's clothed flesh, he could feel the heat emanating from the confined length. With another gasp from false Eragon, Murtagh tugged his pants down to visually devour his baby brother. _You cannot even imagine how I wish to do this for real, but for now this will suffice, brother._ He gave a wry smile before kissing him again and letting his hand grasp the exposed length.

False Eragon gasped again before moaning softly with Eragon's voice. Murtagh smirked and nudged his fingers behind the other male, pulling him closer by the edge of his shirt. He kissed him before pushing a finger in.

The younger boy gasped and winced at the intrusion. He squirmed as Murtagh moved the finger within before adding another. The fingers brushed against his inner walls and by time third finger was pushed in, false Eragon were moaning in desire.

Murtagh pulled his hand back before undoing his own pants. He smirked softly and kissed Eragon again before he spread the boy's legs. He grasped his own length and positioned himself just over Eragon's entrance.

Eragon could almost feel Murtagh beside him though he knew it was only an illusion. He felt as though he could feel the heavy breathing of them both, feel the touch of Murtagh's flesh against his own.

And in an instant, Murtagh thrust deep into the false Eragon as a scream of pain and pleasure was ripped from the image's throat in place of Eragon's own scream.

He was forced to watch as Murtagh thrust steadily into the illusion which was soon squirming and moaning beneath him. In a scream of pleasure, they called each other's name in the cell and released which broke the spell.

Eragon's eyes snapped open as sight and sound were restored. He heard his own labored breath, his body was shaking uncontrollably. Unconsciously throughout the mental rape, Eragon had shifted his position. Now, his legs were spread slightly and his hand was over his hardened length. He gasped at the realization and closed his legs, pulling his hand to his chest. "Murtagh…"

"Yes?" apparently the time for mind games was over.

"You bastard…" he whispered still shaking.

"Ah, but you seemed to enjoy it," he smirked softly as he got to his feet.

Slowly he sensed the other spell over his mind end and with it he felt Saphira's presence again. Apparently…Thorn had mimicked Murtagh's ways.

Wear as Eragon had experienced mind rape, Saphira had been courted like the noble dragoness she was, and had been forced to mate with Thorn in her mind.

And now that the spells on her were released, she was far from happy.

_NEVER!_ Saphira roared with both her maw and her mind. _NEVER WILL AN EGG OF MINE BE IN THE HANDS OF SUCH EGG-BREAKERS AND TRAITORS!_ She lashed out furiously trying to free herself so she could tear out Thorn's hearts and devour them. Her bloodlust was evident, but thrash as she may she could not break the binds holding her.

Murtagh went to stand by Thorn who was shaking himself, whether to dust himself off or to shake the fear of Saphira's fury, Eragon was not sure.

The raven Rider smirked slightly and bowed in the Elven manner. "This is farewell for now, Eragon. Do not think we are through." He turned to Saphira and bowed to her as well only to receive an angry roar.

With his hand on Thorn's side the two left much in the same manner as they had come: quiet and dangerous.

It was only once they were gone did Eragon let a tear roll down his face. Saphira was instantly concerned and probed his mind to find the way to console him but alas her search was useless for Eragon did not know what would help him.

Because even though his mind, and body in a sense, had been taken against his will…Eragon could not deny the small part of him that…enjoyed what Murtagh had done…


End file.
